


what they say about assuming

by AgentBuzzkill



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, Powerless Fjord
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 16:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20100460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentBuzzkill/pseuds/AgentBuzzkill
Summary: It makes an ass of you and me.Or: Caleb thinks he and Fjord are dating. Fjord does not.





	what they say about assuming

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this fic idea kicking around my head forever, and I finally got the motivation to write it.
> 
> Big big thanks to Amaronith for proofreading and letting me bounce ideas off of her, and everyone in the Widofjord discord who cheered me on!

“Beau,” Fjord says, fumbling with a chair as he sits down at the table she and Jester had claimed in the back corner of the tavern. “I think I fucked up.”

Beau and Jester both look at each other, then back to Fjord.

“This is news?” Beau asks and Fjord has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“I mean I _ really _fucked up. I guess? I mean—” he cuts himself off with a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair as he leans forward, elbows on the table. “I don’t know. I just need help.”

“What’s wrong, Fjord?” Jester asks. She at least has the decency to sound concerned and Fjord appreciates that. 

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself to say words that he still can’t believe are true.

“Caleb kissed me.”

He looks up, and both girls look back incredulously.

“Okay,” Beau says, unimpressed. “What’s your point?”

“Don’t you two always do that?” Jester adds. “I would think by now—”

“We don’t!” Fjord interrupts, the twisting panic in his stomach flaring up again as his palms smack down on the table. “That’s the thing, we don’t do that!”

“But you’re dating, right?” Jester replies as Beau’s face twists like she’s smelled something awful. 

“If you’re leading him on—”

“I didn’t know there was anything _ to _lead on! We’re not...I didn’t think...” Fjord’s voice trails off as he tries to get a grip on the thoughts swirling around his head. He doesn’t know how to explain what he’s feeling, like a rug has been pulled from under his feet and now he’s tumbling, falling into a bottomless pit that he didn’t even know about until right now.

Of course he’s always imagined having...something with Caleb. In their most private moments, when it’s just the two of them and Caleb looks at him and smiles and it’s soft and sweet and so much more than Fjord ever thought he could hope for, of course he’s imagined taking Caleb’s hand. Leaning in slowly. Pressing his lips to Caleb’s and it would be so easy because they’d done this before, and they knew each other better than they knew anyone else— 

But that’s not what he has with Caleb.

At least, he thought he didn’t have that with Caleb. Now he’s just confused and anxious and it’s a terrible combination, the fear that he’s unknowingly fucked up something very important eating away at him as he pulls his hands into his lap and wrings them under the table. 

“Fjord,” Jester says gently, “what happened?”

Fjord takes a deep breath, eyes firmly on the grooves in the wood of the table in front of him as he recounts the events of that day.

* * *

He’s eating breakfast when Caleb approaches his table, a smile that Fjord would almost call shy turning the corners of his mouth up as he stands next to Fjord’s chair.

“Good morning,” Caleb greets, placing a hand on Fjord’s shoulder and Fjord reaches up to cover the back of Caleb’s hand with his own, giving it a quick squeeze as he grins up at Caleb. 

“Good morning,” he replies and basks in the fondness apparent in Caleb’s gaze. “What’s on your mind?”

“I was thinking we could take a walk today,” Caleb says. “Get the lay of the land, since we will be here for at least the next few days? I know Caduceus thinks he and Nott have found a lead on where we could find some Iceflex, but that does not mean I cannot do a bit of my own research.”

“Sounds great.” Fjord turns his attention back to the food in front of him as Caleb’s hand slips from his shoulder. “Have you already found a bookstore, or is that on the list of things we’ll need to keep an eye out for?”

Caleb lets out a little laugh. “I’ve got a few shops I’d like to visit at some point. If you don’t mind, of course.”

In most circumstances Fjord would, but the promise of alone time with Caleb was apparently enough to outweigh his extreme boredom at the thought of spending his day traipsing through shops. 

They set out later that afternoon, bundled up against the cold. It wasn’t nearly as extreme a chill as the temperatures in the mountains had been, but Fjord still sees clouds of his breath lingering in the air with every exhale and he finds himself missing the warmth of Uthodurn the longer they’re outside. 

Caleb’s coat, usually left completely open or held closed by one or two buttons, is completely buttoned up as he leans into Fjord’s side and stuffs his hands into his pockets. In an effort to keep his friend warm Fjord wraps an arm around Caleb, who seems to lean into the touch appreciatively. He glances up at Fjord with that same shy smile from before, and Fjord returns it with a smile of his own.

They duck into one of the shops Caleb points out, and Fjord is always a little surprised that he’s gotten so used to the smell of old books. It’s become pleasant to him, so much so that he can’t help but inhale a bit and grin as he guides Caleb into the shop, one hand resting on Caleb’s lower back. His touch lingers just a little longer than it would with anyone else, a tiny indulgence that Fjord allows himself. 

He’s not stupid enough to think Caleb would ever return his feelings, as much as he wishes that were the case. Still, he’ll treasure any time he can spend with the other man; make as many memories as he can and file them all away, keep them secret and safe when Caleb inevitably finds someone more suited for his interest and decides to spend time with them instead of Fjord.

Fjord is already jealous of them, whoever they are. They’re luckier than he could ever be.

Behind the counter of the shop a young dwarf sits, reading a book of her own. She glances up as the two of them enter, curiosity evident on her face as she smiles and sets her book down.

“Can I help you gentlemen with anything?” she asks, and Caleb gives a little wave as he approaches the counter.

“Ah, well. If you don’t mind...”

Fjord allows his attention to drift from the conversation, happy to let Caleb to do whatever business he needs as he wanders around the front of the store. Glancing over he can see quite a selection of books shelved behind the counter, and even more beyond a halfway-parted curtain leading to the rest of the shop, and as Caleb gestures behind the dwarf he can easily figure out that the books Caleb would have the most interest in are probably part of a more exclusive stock. 

He proves himself right as he peruses the shelves available to him; there are accounts of the histories of various parts of Exandria, a whole section on the basics of spellcasting, guides for homemaking and cooking and other basic skills. There’s also a little section of books that appear to be fantasy—fairy stories and myths and legends—right next to a shelf full of what Fjord (with what he would almost consider to be reluctance) recognizes as romance novels.

Each title seems sillier than the last. _Temptation of the Knight._ _Dangerous Thirst. The Summer Prince._ Fjord is about to move on quickly, when another title catches his attention.

_ Strange Tides. _It’s bound in dark blue leather, with a bright red ribbon sticking out of the bottom. Curious, Fjord slips that title off of the shelf and flips right to the page marked by the ribbon, in the middle of the story. 

_ “We cannot do this,” Dimitri whispered. Marco could feel heat against his skin as they breathed together. _

_ “And yet here we are.” Marco’s voice was just as hushed, husky and deep and so warm Dimitri wished he could swim in it. A waft of cool air drifted in through the open window, curtains parting to allow moonlight to spill over them both. _

_ “You leave tomorrow.” Dimitri said with endless sadness tinging his voice. “And with you, so goes my heart.” _

_ Marco took Dimitri’s hands in his own before pressing kisses to each of his knuckles, his wrists, his fingertips. He spoke, and there was such tenderness in his voice that it made Dimitri’s heart ache. _

_ “How convenient, my love, for I will be leaving my heart here when I go.” _

_ Dimitri surged up and his mouth met Marco’s, a renewed hunger urging him to go further with the other man than they had ever gone before, to give them both one last good night— _

“Fjord?”

He nearly drops the book, shutting it closed with an audible clap and turning to face Caleb, who is holding a few books of his own. 

"Find anything good?" Caleb asks, peering at the titles Fjord is standing near, and Fjord feels his face grow warm.

"Uh, I mean... I dunno." His voice cracks just a bit, and he desperately wishes for the comfort of Vandren's drawl at that moment. "Just looking, I suppose." He returns the book in his hands to the shelf. “Nothing of much interest. What did you get?”

Caleb’s eyes light up at that, eager to show off the two books he’d managed to acquire. There was a third, apparently, that he’d wanted to get but he only had the coin to spare for two. 

“It would have been good for my own personal studies,” he says, “but ultimately it wasn’t necessary for what we’re trying to accomplish here.”

Fjord, eager to get Caleb away from the books he’d been looking at, returns his hand to the small of Caleb’s back and guides them out of the shop as Caleb talks. When they get outside Caleb is quick to stow his purchases within his coat, tucked away where the snow that began to fall while they were inside can’t ruin them. Fjord’s hands return to his side the moment the door of the bookshop shuts behind them. As much as he wants to stay close to Caleb, he knows one too many touches could give away his feelings.

“Let’s continue on,” Caleb says, fingers brushing against the back of Fjord’s hand as they walk. The contact is a spark of warmth, a pulse of closeness and comfort and Fjord longs for more. If he could he would gladly reach out and take Caleb’s hand, lacing their fingers together as they walk. 

Instead he keeps his hands at his sides. 

The few citizens of the city that roam about keep to themselves, eager to do their business as quick as possible and get back inside, and everything is quiet and calm as they walk together under a dark grey sky. Fjord is focused on the crunch of the snow under their feet, letting Caleb lead them wherever he pleases, and when he looks up they’ve come to stop at a small pavilion on the edge of town. It overlooks the rest of the valley they’re currently in, and for a moment the two simply stand together and look out at the mountains surrounding them. Fjord never thought he would leave the coast in his lifetime, let alone come so far up north that he would traipse through snow-covered mountains on a quest to repair a sword.

He’s never really known what to expect from his life. Not before the shipwreck, certainly not after, and even now his future remains as uncertain as ever. If he had things his way he would find a newer, better way to fit into the group—some strength or power that he could use to protect his friends, his _ family _, the same way they now protect him. 

(If he really had things his way, if the wishes that he kept close to his chest could ever possibly come true, Caleb would always be by his side. They would fight together and love together and retire someday to a life in some little coastal town, in a cottage down by the sea. It was a dream he’d had once, one from which he hated to wake, and one that he swore he would never speak of to anyone. Ridiculous as the fantasy was it was still his, and it still brought him some small bit of comfort whenever he thought of it.)

Fjord looks at Caleb, taking in the snowflakes that cling to his hair and his coat, at the few that have also come to rest in his eyelashes. His cheeks and nose are red from the cold, his eyes the brightest thing around as his gaze turns to meet Fjord’s, and he’s the most beautiful thing Fjord has ever seen. Fjord looks away, embarrassed to be caught staring. 

“Fjord?” Caleb asks, and Fjord looks back at him in response.

“We have...known each other for a while, _ ja? _” 

Fjord nods.

“And I-I would argue that we have grown quite close in that time.”

“We have,” Fjord replies. He treasures Caleb’s friendship, possibly more than he treasures the friendship of any of his other companions. “I care deeply for you, Caleb. Especially given...recent developments.” 

He’s still wearing the glove that Caleb gave him and he takes that hand, thumb running over his palm absentmindedly, tracing the scar that he knows matches the one on Caleb’s palm. 

“You must know now that we..._ I _ would never leave you behind.”

“Even if it would be for the benefit of everyone else?”

“None of that talk,” Caleb snaps. “You are worthy of us. Of _ this _.” 

And with that he turns to face Fjord. Fjord responds in kind, a bit confused at the sudden intensity that Caleb is displaying. 

“Caleb?” he asks, but instead of a verbal reply Caleb takes Fjord’s face in his hands. His eyes search Fjord’s face for only a moment before he leans in, closing his eyes as he does so, and presses his lips to Fjord’s. 

Fjord stands there. Wide-eyed, hands at his side, feeling for all the world like this conversation has moved in a direction he’d never anticipated. It hits him at once what’s happening—Caleb’s mouth against his, they’re kissing, Caleb is kissing him, but why would Caleb do that?—and in his shock he stumbles back, out of Caleb’s grasp. 

Caleb’s eyes open, surprise quickly giving way to heartbreak, and Fjord swallows hard. He’s still so confused, everything happening so fast he barely has time to process what’s going on before Caleb speaks.

“Fjord?” He asks, his voice small and fragile as the snowflakes that continue to drift around them. “I-I don’t understand, we’ve been together this long and I just—”

“Together?” Fjord’s confusion only deepens, as does the hurt that’s evident on Caleb’s face before he suddenly composes himself. Fjord blinks and Caleb’s expression has gone blank, as cool and impassive as he’d been the day they first met. Any trace of the warmth they’d shared before is gone, and in its place is a Caleb that seems like a stranger to Fjord now.

“My apologies,” he says, eyes shining even as his voice stays calm. “I believe I have...misread a lot of things.”

“Caleb,” Fjord tries taking a step forward, but Caleb is already backing away. 

“I will see the rest of the city on my own. Good day, Fjord.” 

With that he turns, and Fjord can only watch him go. He doesn’t know how much longer he stands there, snow beginning to fall harder and harder with each passing minute, until the world around him is a blur of white and grey and the footprints Caleb left are nearly gone and he comes back to himself only when he finally realizes that he’s shivering. 

His walk back to the inn is a blur.

* * *

Fjord finishes his story, looking up to Jester’s shock and Beau’s barely-concealed anger.

“I knew it,” she says, standing abruptly from the table. “I knew you’d break his heart.” 

“Beau, I swear I didn’t know-” he starts but she cuts him off. 

“Didn’t know that you were _ together _?” And when she says it like that, like it’s an obvious fact that’s impossible forget, it only makes him feel more stupid. “Dude, really? Everyone else seemed to think you were.”

“You_ have _ gone on a lot of dates,” Jester says as if conceding a point, and Fjord just sits back in his chair. 

“Those weren’t dates. We just-”

“Went to dinner together,” Jester finishes.

“And go on walks all the time,” Beau adds.

“And share rooms.”

“And always sit by each other.”

“And hold hands when he’s watching stuff through Frumpkin.”

“And protect each other when we’re in a fight.”

“And give each other stuff.”

“And-”

“I get it!” Fjord snaps. “But those...that’s just…” He flounders for the right words, for any justification that will make them see that his side of the story is valid. 

“We’re friends,” he says, defeated, running his hands through his hair. “That’s all I thought he wanted to be.”

“Well yeah, that’s stuff that friends do,” Jester says. “But you have this way that you look at each other…”

“You weren’t just friends,” Beau says, arms crossed in front of her chest, still looking down at Fjord. “Not to him, anyway.”

Fjord barely suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. “Well I know that _ now _.” 

Jester still looks sympathetic, and Fjord can’t help but appreciate that as his gaze shifts from Beau to her. “So that’s all you want to be?” she asks. “Friends?”

Fjord has to think a bit before he answers. Really that should be all the answer that he needs, the fact that he hesitates telling him everything that he needs to know. 

Of course he doesn’t want to only be friends, but for the longest time that was all he ever thought he would get. And he wasn’t about to go and ruin what he already had by selfishly asking for more. Having Caleb in his life at all was enough. It had to be enough. Because why would Caleb want him that way? What could he possibly give Caleb, what did he have to offer that would be worthy of Caleb’s affection? 

Before he’d had a pact with an evil sea snake, which surely weren’t good prospects, and now he just had nothing. He was powerless and directionless and if his friends ever came to their senses and realized that he was useless now he would have nowhere to go and nobody to be.

Caleb deserved better than him. He always had, and he always would. 

“No,” he finally admits. “No, it’s not. But Caleb...can do better. We all know that.”

He glances up, relieved to see Beau relax just a bit at that. 

“But he wants you!” Jester says. “And if you want him too, you should be together!”

“Jess, it’s not that simple-” he tries to say, but Beau cuts him off.

“Why can’t it be? Go apologize, explain yourself, and hope that he still wants you.”

Fjord sighs, running a hand through his hair and tugging just a bit. He was pretty sure he already knew how Caleb would feel about still wanting him, but he knew that the very least he owed Caleb was an apology. 

“You’re right,” he says, scooting his chair back from the table and standing up. “I-I need to go get something. Then I’ll apologize.”

It wouldn’t be enough. Nothing he could give Caleb would ever be enough to express how deeply he regrets hurting him. But the gift he had in mind was a good enough place to start. 

* * *

In the seclusion of his room, Caleb has tucked himself away under the covers of his bed. His plan has already been formulated—he will wait until Nott and Caduceus return from their errands, and he will politely ask to swap rooms with Caduceus. Things can neatly return to just as they were—he and Nott will share a room as they always did (until recently) and he and Fjord do not need to interact beyond the polite exchanges one would expect from somewhat-distant friends.

Friends. Apparently that was all they ever were.

He doesn’t know how he could have been so foolish.

He is replaying every moment between them in his head; every subtle brush of Fjord’s hand on his, every glance shared over the rims of their glasses at dinner, every walk they’ve taken together and inside joke that they’ve shared and every conversation where Caleb walked away feeling like they’d grown just a little closer, like any day now would be the one where Fjord was finally comfortable enough to take his hand or kiss him. 

After nearly a month of waiting he’d only wanted to prove to Fjord that it was okay to want more. He thought Fjord just wanted to take things slow, and he’d been more than fine with that.

_ Well _ , Caleb thinks to himself, _ you know what they say about assuming. _

And now he’s gone and ruined everything. He’d been too swept up in his own feelings, in the giddiness of the kind of love that he hadn’t felt since his school days, to consider that they’d never fully established what they were to each other. 

_ “Fjord. I appreciate you,” he said in the darkness of the tunnels under the well, still reeling from the charms of the succubus and the sight of Fjord going down protecting him even as Caleb himself flitted in and out of consciousness. “You know that, right?” _

_ “I do,” Fjord replied, his drawl even deeper and richer than usual, exhaustion evident in the way he yawned right after speaking. He reached between them, taking Caleb’s scarred hand in his own, pressing their palms together. “I...appreciate you too, Caleb.” _

Because of course that was enough to assume that Fjord returned his feelings. Of course that wasn’t just something good friends would say to one another. Of course it had just been wishful thinking, taken too far because Caleb didn’t want to admit to himself that Fjord probably didn’t feel the same way. He’d willingly blinded himself to the truth for the sake of his own desires, and realizing that caused another sharp pang of grief to stab through his chest. It was pitiful, he knew, to mourn the loss of a love that was never going to be his, and still he mourned. 

It had been nice to pretend, is all. To live for just a little bit in a world where Fjord could be his and he could be Fjord’s. Fjord had helped inspire a confidence in Caleb that he thought was long gone—he wanted to be more open, to wear the bandages less and shave a little more and get some nicer clothes, to be the type of man Fjord deserved to have at his side, and in return he’d done his best to get Fjord to open up too. 

He’d sat in Fjord’s room in the Xhorhaus and waited for him and tried to convince him that he could be trusted with Fjord’s past, that Fjord could lean on him just as much as Caleb knew he would lean on Fjord, and Fjord’s promise to come to Caleb with his story when he felt ready had renewed the hope that resided in Caleb’s heart. 

He kept waiting and waiting and waiting to be let in, for Fjord to finally open up and grow closer to him, and in the meantime he did his best to comfort his partner (and gods did he feel ridiculous looking back at that now, as if he’d ever had the right to call Fjord his partner). He offered little touches whenever he could, snuggled close whenever Fjord wanted to share a bed, tried his best to be there for Fjord in all of the ways Fjord had ever been there for him. 

Even now he would never think that all of it was for nothing. Ensuring Fjord’s safety, bolstering his confidence when he’d been at his lowest, was never something that Caleb would regret. He couldn’t even bring himself to regret his feelings, unrequited as they may be.

Because at the end of the day, those feelings were proof that Caleb Widogast still held the capacity to love. And no heartbreak would ever take the relief of that realization away.

A knock at his door drags him from his thoughts, and he can only hope that Nott has finally returned. He’d like to spend an evening with both her and her flask. 

“Caleb?” he hears in a soft accent that he’s still not quite used to. “Are you in there?"

For a moment he considers staying in bed. It would certainly be easier, to ignore the problem until it went away. 

But deep down he knows that he doesn’t want Fjord to go away.

So Caleb sits up, running a hand through the hair that has managed to escape from the leather tie holding it back. He knows he must look a sight as he opens the door, stripped down to his plain shirt and trousers, his usual coat and holsters laying in a pile in the corner of the room that he’d discarded them in when he’d come back to the inn, frantic and heartbroken. Were his eyes still red from crying? As he gave a little sniff he could only hope they weren’t. 

Fjord’s expression, already somber when Caleb opens the door, only seems to fall further as he takes in Caleb’s appearance. In his hands there is a package wrapped in brown paper that crinkles when Fjord nervously shifts it in his hands.

“Can I come in?” He asks. Caleb steps aside without a word.

Fjord, still with a bit of hesitation, makes his way into their room. He sits down on the edge of his bed, pressed against the wall opposite Caleb’s, setting the package down next to him. Caleb sits on his own bed, back straight and hands folded in his lap, schooling his face into as neutral an expression as he can in spite of the tidal wave of emotion that is rising up inside him. 

“I-I’d like to apologize,” Fjord starts, his gaze firmly planted on Caleb’s chest as he wrings his hands in his own lap. 

Caleb forces himself to not look away. “There is hardly a need to do that.”

“I disagree,” Fjord replies. “I think that it’s highly necessary—”

“Let’s not do this,” Caleb interrupts. “Please, Fjord, I just… We don’t need to talk about it. You have made yourself clear enough already.”

“I don’t believe I have,” Fjord says, and Caleb can’t help but flinch just a bit at the fresh wound of rejection being poked. “In fact, I haven’t made myself clear at all.”

“Really?” Caleb asks and in spite of himself, his tone grows cold. “Because pulling back when I kissed you seemed to send a strong enough message to me. Unless you just wanted to say it out loud too?”

“Caleb—”

“I can put two and two together, Fjord,” he continues, lashing out because when cornered and hurt it’s all he can do. “Though recent events have not proven that, I assure you that your rejection was heard loud and clear. There is no need to repeat yourself, and I promise that from now on I will keep my distance—”

“Damn it all, Caleb, would you fuckin’ listen to me!?”

For a moment Vandren’s drawl is back, louder than Caleb has heard it in a while. He jumps a bit at that, startled by Fjord’s sudden anger. Fjord’s eyes flash up to meet his and in the face of Caleb’s apparent fear he calms almost immediately, anger giving way to guilt as he leans forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

“I-I’m sorry,” he says, voice cracking in his new-old accent as he speaks softly into his hands. “I’m so sorry, Caleb. For hurting you. For being so blind. For ruining everything, even now—”

Caleb can only watch, speechless, as Fjord’s hands move to his hair and he grips it hard, pulling just a bit in frustration before letting them drop back to his knees. He pushes himself up off the bed, grabbing the package and crossing the distance between them. Caleb gingerly takes it from Fjord’s hands as it’s offered to him, looking up and meeting Fjord’s eyes.

“It isn’t much,” Fjord says. “It is not even close to an adequate apology. But I don’t know if anything ever could be. There is simply no way for me to properly express my regret over what happened between us. At least not…” He clears his throat, clasping his hands behind his back before continuing. “not in any way that I think you would want me to express such things now.”

Caleb looks at the package in his hands. From the size and shape of it he can surmise what it probably is, and his heart clenches in his chest. “Enlighten me,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “How would you want to express your regret?”

He glances back up in time to see Fjord swallow hard and look away. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever answer he is about to give, looking out their window at the snow that still falls. 

“I can hardly imagine that you would still want me,” he starts, “after what I’ve done. I have caused you enough hurt already, to expect a second chance at calling you mine would be...foolish. Selfish. Surely I have proven by now that I am not worth wanting.”

Caleb opens his mouth to interrupt but Fjord holds up a hand, his expression as pained as Caleb has ever seen it as Fjord looks back down at him. 

“But if you found it in your heart to forgive me, to offer me a second chance at...this. At _ us _. I…” He looks away again, this time down at the package still in Caleb’s hands. “I would do it right this time. I would hold your hand, and kiss you back, and do everything that I have stopped myself from doing because I thought there was no possible way that you could ever return the feelings I’ve harbored for you.” 

Fjord steps back when he’s finished. 

“Anyway,” he says, his voice still choked up even as he tries to talk through it, “I hope you will at least accept what I am able to give you.”

He gestures to the package and Caleb looks down too, taking Fjord’s not-so-subtle suggestion of opening it. He rips the brown paper away, revealing a familiar book that he’d been unsuccessful at haggling for earlier that day. 

“I know there was a third book you’d been hoping to buy,” Fjord explains as Caleb begins flipping through the pages, the sudden tears clouding his eyes making it impossible for him to read anything. “So I returned to the shop and inquired about which one you wanted. I hope the shopkeeper remembered the right one—”

“She did,” Caleb says. “It..._ ja _. It was this one. Thank you, Fjord.”

“As I said, I know it is not nearly enough.”

There is a beat of silence. Caleb stares down at the book in his hands, blinking back tears as he tries to get a handle on all of the thoughts swirling about in his head and the hope that has gripped his heart, even as he tells himself that it’s still a lost cause to hope. He delicately sets the book down next to him and stands, moving towards Fjord. Fjord steps back just a bit, evidently worried about staying in Caleb’s personal space for too long. 

“Caleb?” he asks, and Caleb only steps forward again, until he and Fjord are nearly touching chest to chest. 

“I think we have both proven ourselves to be terrible judges of each other’s feelings,” he says, eyes flicking from Fjord’s lips up to his eyes. “There is no need for me to offer you a second chance at us.” 

Fjord’s face falls, and Caleb is quick to continue. 

“Your first chance was never lost.”

Fjord’s eyes search his face, but he does not seem to find what it is he’s looking for. His brow furrows in confusion. 

“Caleb?” he asks and he sounds so lost, so sad, that Caleb can’t stop himself from reaching out. Fjord looks down, his disbelief clear as he stares at their now-clasped hands. 

Caleb clears his throat before speaking, low and soft. “I think I would very much like for you to kiss me now, Fjord. If that is still something you want to do.”

Fjord’s free hand reaches up to cup the side of Caleb’s face, his thumb tracing the line of Caleb’s cheekbone. He handles Caleb as if he is made of glass, careful and deliberate as he leans in and presses his lips to Caleb’s.

Caleb melts into the kiss, giving Fjord’s hand in his a squeeze, and a low, satisfied noise escapes Fjord. The kiss is soft and slow and Caleb is content to keep it going for as long as he can, leaning in and chasing Fjord’s lips when he finally pulls away. 

“Oh,” Fjord says, his voice full of wonder. “That...I’d like to keep doing that.”

Caleb huffs out a little laugh. The knot of hurt and anxiety that had settled inside his chest begins to loosen, and in its place there is only the warmth of relief. Of love. He leans in for another kiss and his heart leaps as Fjord obliges, deepening it just a bit as he lets go of Caleb’s hand and finds his waist, pulling him in as close as he can. Caleb wraps his arms around Fjord’s shoulders, more than happy to press himself against Fjord’s chest as they continue to kiss. 

Caleb manages to lose track of time for a little bit, only coming back to the present when Fjord finally breaks their kiss and dips down, pressing his lips to Caleb’s neck. 

“I should probably tell Jester and Beau that everything is okay,” he murmurs as Caleb gives a sharp inhale, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. “They were both quite cross with me when I told them what happened.”

“Ah, so they know?” Caleb replies as he begins easing them back towards Fjord’s bed, sitting down and bringing Fjord with him when the backs of his knees hit the mattress.

“They do,” Fjord admits, pulling back from Caleb’s neck as he straddles him. “With any luck I’ll be able to assure them everything is fine before they tell Nott.”

Caleb laughs. “That would probably be for the best.” 

“And then,” Fjord continues as he feel heat begin to rise to his face. “If you’re...amenable to the subject, I...was hoping we might head to bed soon after that.”

“To bed?” Caleb frowns, confused. “It’s just past four in the afternoon.”

Fjord’s hands find Caleb’s waist. “Well, I-I have a bit of time to make up for, don’t I? A whole month, in fact.”

Caleb looks confused for another moment before realization hits. He grins, feeling for all the world like a cat that got the cream, before leaning in to press his own line of kisses along Fjord’s neck. Best to give him some kind of evidence when he goes to talk to the girls, anyway. Fjord makes the best little noises as Caleb sucks a mark into his skin, a rumble deep in his chest that sounds so much like purring that Caleb can’t help but love it. 

When he’s satisfied with his work he pulls back, giving the mark one last little peck before looking up at Fjord.

“You should go let them know, then,” he says. “I don’t want to be kept waiting for much longer.”

Fjord nods, a slightly dazed look in his eyes as he smiles and gives Caleb another quick kiss before slipping out of his lap. Caleb watches Fjord collect himself as best as he can, adjusting his shirt and smoothing down his hair before he heads to the door. Before he leaves he looks back, giving Caleb one last smile before leaving the room. 

Caleb flops down on Fjord’s bed, staring up at the ceiling of their room. His head is spinning in the best way as he reaches up and runs his fingertips over his lips, relief and joy mixing together and making him feel as if he were floating. 

After a moment he reaches down into his pocket, pulling out a bit of copper wire and twisting it around his finger.

“Be kind to him, Beauregard,” he speaks into the wire. “He makes me happy.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always any comments, criticisms, and kudos are appreciated.
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


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